


pickup service available

by renquise



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Post episode 124
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: Her childhood bed is almost too small for her now. She can still see the stars she drew in glowing paint on the canopy, maybe a little dimmer now as the paint aged. The stars in Eiselcross looked completely different, familiar constellations hidden below the skyline.Jester sighs. She spreads her arms. Her palms hang over the sides of the bed.Artagan appears with Essek held to his chest like a furiously recalcitrant cat.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss
Comments: 23
Kudos: 215





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**Author's Note:**

> so I had a spasm of intense feelings about Jester and Essek's friendship after the latest episode, and this very quick little thing resulted? also that failed attempt to get the Traveler to fetch Essek made me absolutely ravenous for Essek and Artagan to meet at some point, because the vibes would be impeccable.

Home is a relief after everything.

The windows of her room are open, and there’s a warm breeze coming in. It smells like salt and jasmine, the kind that hangs on the walls of the Château and makes the evening air thick with sweetness. It feels like a luxury to be able to lie on top of the covers in just a shift and still feel hot. Jester feels warm, finally, from her nose to her toes, in a way she hasn’t for weeks. 

Her childhood bed is almost too small for her now, even though it was way oversized when she had begged her mom for a canopy bed. She can still see the stars she drew in glowing paint on the canopy. They're maybe a little dimmer now as the paint aged. The stars in Eiselcross looked completely different, familiar constellations hidden below the skyline.

Jester sighs. She spreads her arms. Her palms hang over the sides of the bed.

Somewhere, there is a city that hungers.

It seems very far away, and yet far too close. 

“It’s sure been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Phew.” 

_It’s certainly been eventful,_ the Traveler responds. 

"I'm glad to be back somewhere warm again. Geez, it was cold out there, even for me. Though I guess we'll be back there soon enough, huh."

_Ugh. Dreadful place, really. You should stick to tropical islands, like I do._

“I wonder if we could just go to the astral sea and blow the city up.”

_Well, I don’t think you’ve combined those two plans before yet. Who knows!_

“Essek might know. Hey, Traveler. Do you think you could get him here? I have a question to ask him!” It’s a joke, kind of.

A breath. The Traveler doesn’t respond. Huh.

The breeze comes. The canopy moves like waves.

Artagan appears with Essek held to his chest like a furiously recalcitrant cat.

Oh shit. 

She didn’t think that would actually work. It usually never works.

Essek is wide-eyed and kinda panicky-looking, his chest heaving and his hair askew. He scrambles in Artagan’s grasp, clawing at the arm wrapped around his chest, then stills as he sees her. 

Jester waves.

“Jester,” he says, his voice high and tight. “Oh. I see.”

Artagan unravels his arm from Essek. Essek stays where he is, his body hovering half-curled in the air and his eyes flitting around the room.

“Oh shit, Artie, did you really just grab him and go?” 

“My dear, that’s what you asked of me, isn’t it? And here he is! One drow wizard, whole and unharmed. And pretty, too. You have good taste, as always.” 

She makes a face at him. He makes a face back. 

Jester scoots towards Essek and pats him on the back, then starts rubbing slow circles into it. He’s still breathing pretty quick, and it would be pretty awful if he passed out. He’s only wearing a thin underlayer, as if Artagan had grabbed him just as he was undressing for bed. Whoops.

His breath slows, and he straightens.

“Ah. Hello. My apologies for my—” He gestures at himself with a shaking hand. “—my general state. I thought. Well. I thought I would end up being unavailable for your expedition into Aeor. I am glad it was you instead.”

“He tried to throw this marvellous little dark star at me,” Artagan says with relish. “Made me drop my drink, even!”

Essek looks extremely nonplussed. It’s kind of fun to see the fancy Shadowhand ruffled, even though Jester feels a little bad for scaring him so badly. Just a little.

“Uh, sorry for yanking you all the way over here! It was kind of an accident. Well. Mostly an accident. To be fair, I didn’t really think it would work.”

Artagan looks dramatically crestfallen. Even his hair droops a little. “You doubt me, my dear?”

“No, of course not! But sometimes you can do stuff and sometimes you can’t, right? Anyways, Essek, this is Artagan, also known as The Traveler! He’s very cool and he’s my oldest friend. Artagan, you know Essek, right?”

“Enchanté.” Artagan bends over Essek’s hand and kisses it. 

Essek looks down at Artagan’s abundance of hair, then at Jester. Jester gives him a thumbs-up.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I was only familiar with Jester’s interpretation of your iconography before this,” Essek says, his hand loosely graceful in Artagan’s hold. It’s kind of amazing that he can just turn on that pleasantness when he looked close to throwing up on Jester’s floor just two moments ago. “Well. I was about to make myself ready for bed, but I don’t think I’m ready to sleep anytime soon. What is it you require of me?”

It seems really, really silly, now that Essek is standing in her childhood bedroom in his long underwear. Ah well.

“I was juuuuust wondering if it would be possible to just go to the astral sea and blow up the city.”

“No. I don't think so. That’s a terrible idea and we would probably all die.” Essek pauses. “Was that all?”

Jester shrugs. Artagan mirrors her. “I told you it wasn’t really intentional! I wouldn’t really have yanked you here just for that.”

“Ah. Then, a question, if I may. Could you tell me where we are?” Essek asks carefully. He looks around the room. “I’m familiar with suddenly changing places, but it usually happens on my terms.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry, I forgot to tell you. That’s got to be disorienting, wow. You’re in Nicodranas! I don’t know if you recognize it—did you see a lot of it, the last time you were here?” 

The tightening of his jaw would be a full-body wince on anyone else. “I didn’t see much of it, outside of the ships and the party. It seems like a nice place, if very sunny.”

“I wish I could show you around properly. You probably can’t hang out too long, I know. Maybe one day, right? We’ll get you a parasol and sunglasses and some gloves so you don’t get sunburned.” 

Essek’s face twists into a lopsided smile. “That would be nice.” 

Jester feels as though she still doesn’t know as much of Nicodranas as she would like: the streets outside the Château are still unfamiliar to her, especially discovering them as an adult, not a child. It’s almost weird to come back and feel like she’s outgrown the place, even though so much of it remains unfamiliar. The world outside is at once so much larger and smaller than she imagined. There are things out there that she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

A part of her, one that sounds like Beau and Caleb, wonders if it’s wise to let Essek know where her mom lives. Where Veth’s family lives. If her mom were hurt, she—well, she would never forgive herself. She wrestles that part back down. There’s a lot they don’t know about how Essek is dealing with things, but she knows bone-deep that he wouldn’t hurt them. Not intentionally.

It would be cool to show Essek through the city: the sun-drenched streets are so different from what they saw of Rosohna. He doesn’t sound convinced that they’ll get the chance, though, and Jester is so, so tired of conversations that sound like goodbyes.

“We will! I’ll show you so many things, you’ll see. Anyway. We’re at my mom’s place! Isn’t it beautiful?” 

“Your mother’s—” Essek looks panicked once again. “I need to leave.”

“Oh no, don’t go yet! Wait, wait, I know—” 

She reaches inside her pyjamas to take off Caleb’s amulet and motions for Essek to bend his neck. He does, his eyes darting fretfully to hers before dipping again.

The line of his hair is short and crisp along the nape, as carefully-maintained as the rest of him. It still feels weirdly vulnerable. Jester wants to ask if he would sit for her sometime. She’s curious to see if she could capture the details of him that he keeps so close.

She settles the amulet on his neck, patting his chest. “There. Now you can’t be scryed on. Keep it, okay?”

His expression does a bunch of micro-gymnastics. 

“This seems like a very valuable item to give away.”

Jester waves this away, because that’s stupid. “It was Caleb’s before, and now it’s mine to give. It kept him safe, and maybe it’ll help to keep you safe, too.”

The line of his mouth crumples a little. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“I hear ‘thank you’ is commonly accepted around these parts,” Artagan says, examining his nails.

“I. Ah. Thank you, then. And pass on my thanks to Caleb, as well. I’m grateful for any protection it might grant me.” Essek fingers the amulet, passing his fingers over the surface. His eyes flash briefly as he examines it. “But I really should be returning. I don’t know what could happen at the outpost in my absence, especially with what you’ve told me.”

“Okay, okay,” Jester says. 

Jester makes eyebrows at Artagan and makes very subtle motions towards Essek. Artagan sighs in a motion that takes the entirety of his body and his hair besides.

“May I have the pleasure of returning you to your frozen hellhole,” Artagan says. Extremely sincerely. Jester gives him a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, I would appreciate that. Ah. Please proceed when you like.” 

Essek gingerly places himself back into the circle of Artagan’s arms. He looks like he’s bracing himself for something. His butt to be forcefully relocated somewhere else on his body, maybe.

“Traveler, it isn’t going to hurt him to take him back, will it?” 

Artagan raises an eyebrow. “Why would it? He’ll just—” He gestures extremely vaguely. “—start to exist somewhere else. I don’t know why he’s so eager to go back there, personally. Say, Essek, you wouldn’t be interested in grabbing a drink in Port Damali? I know a place that does divine mojitos.”

Essek looks intrigued. “So what you did, it is not translocation as it is commonly understood? How is the matter shifted?”

“Oh no, nerd boy, you aren’t going to trap me in the weeds of that conversation. Dreadfully boring. I won’t have it. Nevermind about that drink.”

Essek looks momentarily frustrated before his face smooths over again. It’s kind of cute. “Very well.”

Artagan chucks Essek’s chin. “But perhaps I’ll come by again sometime. Your face when I appeared! Priceless.”

Jester makes a face at him. Okay, it must have been pretty funny. But Essek seems like he’s still a little tense right now. 

“Artie, don’t do that. At least give him advance notice.”

“Jester, you are the little chaotic light of my life, but you absolutely cannot pretend to be an authority on providing advance notice. Not when the results have always proven so entertaining.”

Essek blinks a little. “I am at your disposal, I suppose. Although, yes, I would beg of you to consider calling ahead, to minimize the risk of a heart attack. I will not be of much use to you as a corpse.”

Oof. Jester wonders, a little, what exactly had made Essek so desperate to get to Eiselcross. What made him twist his body and risk abandoning himself to the ice by teleporting, just to get there faster. It makes something flare up in her: Essek is theirs, just a little, even though it’s complicated, and the idea of him being hurt makes her really angry.

Jester reaches out and pats where the amulet sits in the hollow of his chest, then wraps her arms around him, because she might as well. He feels really skinny. It can't help with the cold.

“We want you alive for so many reasons besides your use, Essek. Don’t you dare keel over just because you’re scared.” 

He’s stiff in her arms, but she can feel his hands landing lightly on her shoulders.

When she lets go, he bows his head, breathing deep, before straightening again. “Ah. Thank you again. Be careful, Jester. Stay safe. Please. I will be waiting.” 

Artagan sweeps his billowing cloak around them—really, Jester is pretty sure that it’s entirely for the dramatics of it—and the both of them are gone. 

The night outside is warm. The stars are the same, but different. Things aren’t okay, but they could be made better.


End file.
